


You're Bleeding

by sainnis



Category: The Legend of Zelda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-18
Updated: 2007-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-05 08:22:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sainnis/pseuds/sainnis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the 30_wounds community on LJ.  Prompt:  'you're bleeding'.</p><p>Set in the world of A Link to the Past, my old-school and all-time favorite Zelda game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Bleeding

**Author's Note:**

> Beta-ed by the lovely nyagosstar.

  
Link pressed his back against a tree, praying to all three goddesses he’d lost them. Lungs burning, he tried to keep his gasps for breath quiet as he listened intently for sounds of pursuit, but it was impossible to hear anything over the pounding rain. He closed his eyes for a moment, fighting back a wave of nausea as he held his sword arm tightly against his chest. Although the darkness from the storm and the lateness of the hour obscured his sight, he had still seen the blood on his sleeve, dark as pitch. His ragged breaths made the pendant hanging around his neck bump uncomfortably against his chest. _How the hell are you going to get the other two if you allow yourself to be ambushed by a few damned soldiers?_

He forced his eyes open, trying to ignore the sick sensation of his own warm blood seeping beneath his fingers. It was well past dusk; he’d never find a fairy now. He was miles from town, and he’d stupidly downed the potion Sahasrahla had given him after his fight in the Eastern Palace. Even if he made it to the village without running into any more guards, the idiots would sound the alarm the moment they saw his face. He was a wanted man now, and no place was safe.

Thunder rattled through the forest canopy, startling him, and he reached awkwardly for his sword with his right hand, but he could barely get the damn thing out of the scabbard. If he got into a fight now, he’d be lucky to get in one decent parry before someone ran him through. Faore, why hadn’t his uncle made him practice more? He winced as recalled his uncle’s face, pale in the flickering lights of the underground passage as he begged Link to take up his sword. He owed the man more than this.

There was one safe place, he realized. He hadn’t wanted to return there until his tasks were fulfilled, but he really had no other options. It was imperative that he enter unseen, or it would put _her_ at risk as well. The Sanctuary wasn’t far from this part of the woods, and if he moved quickly, he could make it there before someone found him. Or he passed out, whichever came first.

The goddesses did take a small bit of pity on him, and he slipped through the forest without notice, although the pain in his arm was starting to make him dizzy. He could see candles burning behind the stained glass windows of the Sanctuary, although at this hour the colored light seemed more ominous than welcoming. He wished he could use the passage behind the altar to get inside again, but there wasn’t any way to get to it from out here. Keeping to the side of the building, he crept up to the entrance slowly, making sure he was alone.

After waiting an unbearably long time, which was likely only several minutes, he slipped from the shadows and passed through the front doors, ducking behind them as soon as he crossed the threshold. Looking up, he saw through the dim lighting that someone was kneeling at the altar, and he bit back a curse. At first glance he wondered if it might be the priest, but the robes weren’t the right color. _It’s probably some stupid villager, praying she’ll find me and get the reward money._ Link tried to steady his breathing as he weighed his options. He supposed he could hide beneath the pews until she left, but his arm ached so fiercely he couldn’t imagine crawling into such a small space.

 _Knock her out. Just slip up behind her and knock her out. She’ll never see you coming._ He apologized in advance, wondering exactly what the goddesses’ punishment was for those who beat on innocent praying folk. The woman was clearly deep in prayer, and didn’t stir as he approached. He held his bow in his right hand, lifting it high. He was only a step away from her when she spun, a bright dagger in her hands.

He staggered back and fell to the floor as she lunged, her attack missing him by inches. He heard his bowstring snap as he fumbled to get his sword out of its scabbard and into parrying position, but the next blow didn’t come.

“Link?”

He looked up as the woman yanked back the headdress covering her hair. “Princess,” he whispered, ducking his chin in lieu of a bow. “I didn’t realize it was--”

“Come on.” She sheathed her dagger, reaching out to offer him a hand up. “You’re bleeding all over the altar.”

He took it, unable to look at her as she helped him to his feet. He mumbled his thanks, clutching his throbbing arm to his chest.

“You’d best have that looked at.” The princess produced a key from her belt, unlocking the door nearby. “Can you walk?”

He bit his tongue, shame stealing his voice. Where was the priest? He hadn’t wanted her to see him like this, or see him at all, frankly, not until he had the Master Sword. This was turning out all wrong.

Following her down a narrow set of stairs, he squinted in the darkness until she lit a lamp using a bit of magic. It was difficult to pick his way across the uneven floor, and he wondered how well the princess had fared trailing after him in the sewers during their first meeting. “We’re almost there.” She turned down another hallway—this place was a damned maze—and finally opened the door at the end of it.

A pleasant scattering of lamps cast a warm glow in the chamber before him, which he realized was some sort of archive. Papers and books lined the walls, and still more stacks were piled on the floor around the perimeter. “It’s the priest’s study,” the princess said. “He’s not much for organization.” She walked towards the middle of the room, where several low couches were positioned, all but one covered in more books. “Sit, please.”

It took him a few moments to remove his sword and gear one-handed, but he managed it, and collapsed ungracefully onto the couch. It didn’t bear thinking about how long it had been since he last sat down. He felt himself start to sway a little, and he blinked as the edges of his vision began to burn away. He realized he was falling forward, but he couldn’t quite find a way to stop himself.

“Link!” The princess’ face swam before him, and she caught him, cupping the back of his head with one hand while supporting his shoulder with the other. “Just lay back. Take a few deep breaths.”

She eased him back onto the couch, careful of his injured arm. She looked down at him, waiting until he met her gaze. “You still with me?”

“Yeah.” His head ached, and he wanted to close his eyes, but the princess seemed pretty adamant that he not do that.

“Don’t go nodding off.” She pointed a finger at him, and then rose to her feet. “There’s a bottle of potion around here somewhere. Just give me a minute. I know I saw one.”

Link craned his neck to watch her. “Why don’t you just ask the priest?”

“I would,” she said evenly, climbing a ladder to reach the higher shelves. “Except he’s not here.”

“What?”

She coughed as a cloud of dust rose up around her. “He’s down in the village. He’s holding vigil with a sick child.”

Link winced as pain rippled through his arm again. “When will he be back?”

The princess shrugged, climbing down one ladder only to go up another. “He said it might be a few days.”

Exhaling, he used his good hand to push himself up. “I should go. I can’t wait that long.” The world started to spin, and this time, the darkness encircling his vision swept over him, pulling him along with it.

****

He gasped, coughing against the acrid smell burning under his nose. He turned his head, but the odor followed him, and he flailed weakly with his good arm, trying to wave off his assailant.

“Wake up.”

Link blinked open his burning eyes, wincing as he wiped away tears. “Are you trying to kill me?”

The princess held up the crushed leaves of an oily-looking plant. “It’s amnna. Some people call it ‘fainting lady’.”

Link groaned, closing his eyes. It was bad enough he was bleeding all over the Sanctuary and had attempted unsuccessfully to knock her out, but now he’d fainted right in front of her. He couldn’t imagine this night getting any worse.

“This isn’t quite as much as I was hoping to find, but it’ll help.” The princess nudged him gently with her hand, and he opened his eyes again. She held a small goblet, which she offered to him. “Drink up.”

He took the cup shakily, and managed to get it to his lips without spilling on himself. The potion burned the back of his throat, but not in an unpleasant way. He hadn’t liked the way it tasted at first, but now that the stuff had saved his life a few times already, he didn’t mind it so much.

He felt his lightheadedness begin to clear, and after a few moments, the pain in his arm start to wane. He looked down at the wound, and saw that though it had stopped bleeding, it was far from healed.

“It’s not quite half a dose,” she said with a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

He was disappointed, but he forced a smile instead. “Don’t apologize. It feels much better than it did.”

The princess sat on an ottoman beside him, a clean cloth spread over her lap. “Here, let me see your arm.”

He hesitated for a moment, but then acquiesced, allowing her to examine it. “The sight of blood doesn’t bother you?”

“I don’t enjoy it, if that’s what you’re asking.” She picked up a pot of salve, dabbing it gently across the wound.

“That’s not what I meant.” He stared at the ceiling to avoid looking at her, because once he started, he knew he’d end up staring, and the evening had already been awkward enough. “I just didn’t expect you to know about healing.”

“I learned a little from my nursemaid. She had a slightly broader view about royal education than my father.” She took a length of linen and began winding it around his arm, binding the cut. “There’s as many people after you now as there are after me. You’re going to have to be more careful.”

Link nodded. “I made you a promise, Princess. I won’t fail you.”

Her fingers deftly tied off the bandage, and she reached out for a moment to brush his hair off his forehead. “See that you don’t.”


End file.
